My worry is different from your worry. It is not more than or less than but different. I think that I am now in an emotional place where I can understand this. This wasn’t always the case.
I used to be unable to see beyond my own sense of worry and even though I never voiced it, I would silently dismiss the worries of others because I deemed them less than my own. I couldn’t understand how people could worry about something so small when my worries seemed so big (to me). But what I have learned is that what may seem like a small worry to me may be a very big worry to someone else.
For the last 2 years I have been functioning very much inside myself. I have been working on getting out beyond myself and my own feelings. It is a struggle. I was unequipped to appreciate anyone else’s worry because I was so busy trying to deal with my own. This probably didn’t make me a great wife, daughter, sister or friend.
I often scan through various online support groups and although I rarely participate, I will read about some stories and I think of how “small” my worries are comparatively. Some children and families have been through A LOT. I have glimpses of what it must feel like to be them, but I truly have no idea. It sets me straight and helps me get outside of myself.
I mentioned in my last post how I am trying to be as close as I can be to the person I was pre-Oscar. The thing that separates me from her is worry. My worry. My obsession with my worry. My submission to worry. My comparison of worry. My diminished compassion for someone else’s seemingly small worry…
How bad does that sound…I have a diminished compassion for someone else’s worry. I was hesitant to share this thought because it sounds really harsh, but unfortunately I think that it was true. The first step is admission of the problem. I have judged or minimized what other people have felt as worrisome if it wasn’t worrisome to me.
If I want to be a better wife, daughter, sister and friend I have to validate other’s feelings as I hope they will validate mine. I have to rid my brain of this scale of worry. I have to go back to what my parents taught me which is to treat others how you would like to be treated. I have to listen with compassion as I hope to be listened to with compassion. I need to legitimize the worries of others if I want my worries to be legitimized. I need to be sensitive to the feelings of others if I want people to be sensitive to mine.
Everybody is going through something. Everybody deserves to feel how they feel. Everybody’s feelings matter. Who am I to judge?…. but I did. I am trying to be better.
Pictured below are my two greatest gifts. The sources of my highest highs, my lowest lows as well as my biggest worries. I don’t worry about one more than the other, I have equally big but different worries for each of them.